


The joy of service

by Raptarion



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, And Amélie needs to stop encouraging her, Bootblacking, F/F, Lena being a useless lesbian, Lena's being a bit of a perv in a public place and should absolutely be ashamed of herself, Upskirt peeking, Wait bootblacking wasn't a tag?, whatever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 15:37:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11084640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raptarion/pseuds/Raptarion
Summary: You know that feeling when you're gay? Like... REALLY gay? And there's someone hot? Like... REALLY hot? And you're literally on your knees in front of them trying really hard to finish cleaning their shoes instead of getting distracted by the exposed skin of their legs?And that's like... REALLY hard to do.(Lena works at a shoeshine station and is gay. Amélie needs her shoes shined and is hot.)





	The joy of service

The lobby is filled with people in fancy looking suits, all moving to and fro. The sound of shoes on tile fill the room, with scattered conversations mixed in. Along the walls are elevators and doorways, leading to offices and upper floors. Plants and large pictures of abstract art are used to decorate the edges of the otherwise boring and achingly empty room. The only other staple feature of this room, sitting on the right side of the numerous doors of the entrance, was a shoe shine station with a half dozen elevated armchairs. Two people could often be found working this station during the work day. Both with unruly brown hair. Both covered up by hats. The woman covering hers with a flatcap. And the man, standing a head taller than his coworker, covering his with a ten gallon hat.

Work at the station was often steady, though rarely busy enough that someone was waiting in every chair. There were lulls in the workday where the two would converse, or keep to themselves, as dictated by their mood. Lena often being the one more likely to try and strike up conversation with her taller coworker. Jesse humoring her often enough, but on some days staying quiet until she gave up.

Today was a quiet day. Lena was killing time with a magazine, occasionally blowing her unruly bangs out of her eyes, when a cough that sounded a lot more like "Stop ignoring me." than "I needed to clear my throat." came from just behind her. She turns to see a customer had seated herself while she was distracted.  
"Oh. Sorry 'bout that." She says, quickly grabbing her kit and kneeling down to get to work. The woman above her hums an acknowledgement. The tone suggested she was irritated at the wait either way. Lena doesn't say anything. She knew she should have been paying attention. She glances up in the middle of work at one point to get a better look at her customer. What a mistake that was. She was sharply dressed in a well tailored suit. A classic black jacket over a white shirt. In place of the tie a gentleman might wear with the same getup she had a thin black neck bow. And she was also bloody gorgeous. Black hair neatly tied up above a beautiful face with features as sharp as her outfit. She was preoccupied with fixing some imagined flaw in her makeup with a compact, and may as well have forgotten Lena even existed for all the attention she was sparing her.

Lena snaps back to her senses before too long and quickly finishes her work.  
"All done ma'am." She states. The woman grabs a bill from her purse and drops it into Lena's hand. She leaves without a word, and before Lena can point out that this was almost twice what she owed. There's a whistle from her coworker.  
"Big tipper. Lucky you." Jesse says.  
"Guess so." Lena responds.

\--------------------------------------------------

It was a few days before the woman returned for another shoe shining. When she did, Lena wasn't distracted like before, and managed to get right to work. It speaks to her work ethic that she was so focused on the woman's shoes that she didn't process what she was wearing until she had finished the first. Then she noticed the stockings on her ankle. And up her shins. And she could see so much of the stocking because good lord the woman was wearing a skirt. And suddenly Lena forgot how to do anything. Somewhere in the back of her mind, past the loud sound of an error message beeping, she was fighting the overwhelming urge to continue the path her eyes had been taking upward. But some semblance of courtesy told her to not go trying to sneak a peak at what she knew was currently at eye level. Her neck was rigid, staring at the woman's shins for probably far too long. She finally forces her gaze downward, and after several more seconds of collecting her scattered thoughts she gets to work on the other shoe.

"How long does this usually take?" The woman asks, impatience dripping from every word.  
"Just finishing up." Lena says, shinning the top of the shoe to perfection then standing up. The woman grabs a bill from her purse and hands it over. "Thanks for your business, Miss..."  
The woman frowns at her.  
"...uh was, looking for a name. I'm Lena."  
The woman strides away without responding. Lena watches her go, disappointment weighing down on her.  
"Whenever yer done being sad about striking out, we've got more customers." She hears Jesse say. She turns around to see almost all the seats filled.  
"Bullocks. Right. Sorry." She says, jumping back to work.

\--------------------------------------------------

Jesse was not a talkative man. Not with Lena, and not with his customers. One was often lucky to get more than an affirmative grunt out of him. Enough to prove he was listening. Not enough to commit to any given conversation. Which is why Lena always enjoyed when she got to see him try to strike up conversation with his favorite customer. She didn't know much about him. His name was Hanzo. He almost certainly was as loaded as everyone else that came through the lobby. He carried a flask on his person. And he was about as talkative as McCree usually is. Watching McCree desperately try to talk with the stoic Asian guy was a rare treat.

After the shoe shine was over, indicating the end of the one sided conversation, the man paid and went on his way as normal. McCree sighs as he puts his earnings in his pocket.  
"Tough break as usual?" She asks.  
"Oh shut yer mouth." He gripes halfheartedly.  
"What can I say? It's just kinda funny watching you pine after someone that uninterested. Like a puppy trying to get an old dog that doesn't want to get up to play with it." She teases. McCree grins.  
"I wouldn't throw stones in glass houses. Especially when your little crush is just coming up." He says, nodding to something behind her. Lena turns sharply to see that indeed the dark haired woman was back, making a beeline to their station from across the lobby.

"Hello again ma'am." Lena says as she arrives. The woman immediately takes her seat, so Lena grabs her kit and gets to work.  
Lena was usually talkative. With her coworker and her customers. But with this woman her mind just drew a blank. This wasn't helped at all by the fact that she was once again wearing a skirt. No stocking this time. Just smooth legs. She gulps. She really wants to look up. She glances quickly at what the woman is doing. She's distracted by a crossword. She looks back to her work. She notices that she's been working on the same spot for far too long. She switches to the other shoe. Her hands continue the work, but her eyes start wandering higher.  
She looks at her shin. She wonders if she gets her legs waxed. No way they're that smooth just from shaving. She looks higher still. The skirt reaches to her knees. The woman is distracted. Her legs have parted just a bit. She glances inner thigh. She thinks she might just be able to get a peek at what underwear she's wearing, if the light wasn't blocked.

Suddenly the legs snap shut. She looks up, and locks eyes with the woman who's skirt she had just shamelessly been looking up. The phrase "If looks could kill." passed through her mind. Lena kneels there, frozen, for several seconds. Then she jumps to her feet.  
"All done took a bit longer than expected so no chargehaveaniceday." She blurts out. The woman stands and briskly makes her way to the exit. Lena begins weighing the merits of changing her name and moving to another country.

\--------------------------------------------------

"Yer never this quiet." Jesse points out one day.  
"Hmm?" Lena asks.  
"I didn't notice it at first, but you've been practically comatose for... almost a week? Not that I miss being bugged all the time. But it's weird not seeing you all peppy and chatty." He explains.  
"I... messed up with that one lady is all. Like... thought I might lose my job levels of messed up." Lena says.  
"I doubt you screwed up that badly. You'll be fine. Trust me." He says. Lena would disagree with him, but she wasn't up for admitting how much of a pervert she had been.  
"Alright that's enough sentiment out of me. But if you want to take a break I can handle the customers for a while." Jesse says.  
"Thanks." Lena replies. She's about to go do that when she sees her. Coming right for the shoe shine station. Right for _her. ___

____

She expects to get slapped. Or chewed out. She doesn't expect the woman to stop a couple steps in front of her. Not even looking angry. Looking for all the world like their last encounter didn't happen.  
"Salut." The woman says.  
"Uh... heya." Lena says.  
"Lena yes?" The woman asks.  
"Yeah." Lena nods.  
"I never gave my name. I'm Amélie" The woman says, stepping past her to take a seat and pulling out her crossword. Lena stands frozen for several seconds.  
"Well?" Amélie asks, nodding down to her shoes. Lena grabs her kit and kneels down. She stares at Amélie's shoes. Not daring to look anywhere else. She works slowly and deliberately. Making sure her work was perfect. She could feel the shame from the last time she had been in this position churning knots in her gut. She wasn't going to give her any reason to complain.

She hears a hum from above her.  
"Could you help me with something?" She asks.  
"Uh... what do you need ma'am?" Lena asks.  
"Look at someone when they talk to you." Amélie says sternly. Lena looks up.  
"Good girl. Now, this seems like something you might know. A six letter word for shoe. Third letter F." Amélie says, listing off a clue from her puzzle. Lena thinks for a moment.  
"Oxford. If I were to hazard a guess ma'am." Lena says.  
"Merci." Amélie says.

Lena is about to return to her work when she notices just how wide Amélie had her knees right now. It was well beyond the little distracted parting from last week. Even as she noticed she widened them even further. She returns her attention to Amélie's shoes. But she glances up to look at her face again. She was doing it on purpose right? As if reading her mind, she smiles, and adjust her legs yet again. With some shock she realizes it's an invitation. She gulps, then adjusts to look. There, draped in shadow, were the woman's panties. Black. Tiny enough to have her convinced her wax job went all the way up to her waist. Lena had grown accustomed to the noises of the lobby in the past. But now, doing something she knew she absolutely should not be doing here where dozens of people were within sight, the noises were fresh and loud. The sound of expensive shoes on tiles may as well have been thunder for how it reverberated in her ear. She wonders if anyone had glanced in their direction and realized what was going on. Her throat was very dry and her heart was hammering.

Suddenly the legs snapped shut. She looked up to the once again disapproving face of Amélie. Had she been wrong thinking that was an invitation after all?  
"You've neglected my other shoe." She states.  
"...sorry ma'am." Lena says, turning back to her work and quickly finishing up.  
"I come here to get my shoes cleaned. I'd hate to have to find someone else to do that if you can't do your job properly." She says.  
"There won't be a need for that ma'am." Lena says quickly.  
"Glad to hear it." Amélie says, standing up. She drops her payment into Lena's hand and walks off, leaving the shoe shiner slightly dazed and calculating how long she would have to wait to get home and take care of what the mental image of the woman's underwear was doing to her.


End file.
